[Traveler]

As Traveler looks on it occurs to him that something's wrong. As he studies this woman before him it strikes him that she's not what she seems to be. But, there's something else wrong. Something personal.

It isn't until several minutes later that he realizes what it is. He's hungry. As the waitress passes by he says, "I'm hungry." A simple statement that reflects his current disposition.

She Stares at him for a moment, waiting for more and then says, "Well, What do you want?"

"Uhhhh," he stumbles not sure what he wants, "what do you have."

"We have pretty much whatever you want, and some you probably don't want."

"Steak... potatoes... I guess." he replies.

"How do you want 'em cooked, Well done, medium, rare?"

"I'll take them medium." he replied.

That accomplished he notices the man named Carriac staring at him. "What are you looking at, Mr. You never seen a man ordering food before?"

[Carriac]

"Oh! I...uh...of course I have. It's just that, well, you don't look very comfortable being here in this place. It's like - forgive the analogy - you're a child discovering things for the first time."

The elf immediately regretted the comment, realizing with a start the soldier before him might be angered at being compared to a child. Carriac bit his lip and waited for the outburst. He was surprised and relieved when Traveler took the question in stride.

[Traveler]

"Well, Things are kinda new to me here. I actually don't remember a thing. I know who I am and I know these are my things, but further than that I have no clue. There are some things which seem natural to me, and some things which have a vague familiarity about them. But that's about it. I keep thinking I'll see something that will jog my memory, but nothing has yet."

[Carriac]

Carriac felt an immediate affinity for the man. He knew what it was like to awaken to the loss of memory. He felt that loss frequently, sometimes on a daily basis. While his own loss was not as profound as Traveler's, the shaper was plagued by missing blocks of memory, windows of time in his life that simply did not exist. Others would tell him he had done or said things quite contrary to his nature during these 'blackouts'. Carriac was forced to take their word for it. He had a great desire to have those memories restored and to eliminate whatever process was causing the lapses. This was the primary reason he had suggested going to see the Oracle. Carriac was certain that if anyone could give him the answers he sought, the Oracle could.

This train of thought lead Carriac to reflect on the nature of journeys...and the fact that he was ill prepared for a journey of any sort. He was low on funds and provisions and would need some of both if he wanted to go anywhere. He thought of a way that he could obtain his supplies and possibly help Traveler at the same time.

"Perhaps a walk through the city will help jog your memories. There are a few things I need to pick up before we leave. Would you like to come shopping with me?"

[Traveler]

Traveler considered his offer and mentally checked off his supplies (it was more reflex than memory) and decided it would do him good to stock up on a few of the more arcane supplies. He kept a pouch of healing supplies with him, though he was no healer, he had learned enough to keep someone from dying in a pinch (it was yet to be seen if he could still do it, though.) He also needed to have a few of his weapons mended, and could stand to have a few bolt re-fletched.

"I could use a go at restocking, myself. It could prove to be a useful venture one way or another. I like to get to know my companions before I have to depend on them. I find It quite useful to know where the weaknesses are in a non-critical moment. I'll go with you!" with that said traveler stood and walked towards the door not waiting for Carriac to join him.

[Carriac]

Carriac blinked. Traveler was half way to the door by then and showed no signs of slowing down. Carriac heaved himself to his feet, tossing a "See you soon!" to his companions at the table before hurrying after him. He reached the warrior just after exiting the Inn.

"Fact number one about this companion," he said, a little out of breath. "I never hurry unless it's absolutely necessary."

Carriac gained his bearings and then pointed to a street down the way.

"There's a shop I'd like to stop by down that way, if you don't mind. I noticed it a few days ago - it had a big grand opening sign on the window. It's called 'The Merc Exchange'. Someone said it was a used weapons shop. I figure I could get some good deals there and maybe stock up on some extra gold. My pouch is a tad light at this moment."

The portly elf didn't bother to explain how he would manage to add to his money pouch in a used weapons store. Instead, he took a page from Traveler's book and headed down the street in the direction indicated without waiting for the warrior to join him.

[Traveler]

They crossed the street and entered a store which held multiple variations on multiple items. There were swords, shields, scabbards, knives, armor, and various other weaponry of all shapes, sizes and materials. One could find anything here. As Traveler looked over the weapons an inner mechanism kicked in that gauged each piece for its value and weakness.

The Elf move on and was talking to what appeared to be the proprietor. Traveler was vaguely of what was going on, but was more involved with his own need for replacements that interest in what the elf was doing at that moment.

[Carriac]

Carriac congratulated himself on remembering the place. "The Merc Exchange" was a brand new shop, but its wares were not. In fact, every item in the store was used. The proprietors had cleaned and repaired their wares so that all were usable - but it was inevitable that some would clean up better than others. It was for those unfortunate weapons that would never be truly serviceable that Carriac had come today.

"Welcome to The Merc Exchange. My name is Carl Hoffengar, I'm the proprietor. How can I help you?"

"Actually," Carriac said, "I was thinking that I could help you."

"You have some items you'd like to sell?"

"Not exactly. I was hoping to do you a service."

Carl raised an eyebrow. "What kind of service?"

"Well, I was noticing that some of your merchandise is a little - shall we say 'worse for wear'. I'd like to clean them up for you a bit."

Carl shook his head. "My partners and I have looked over each weapon personally. Those that could have been cleaned easily have been. The others you see would take a major investment of time for our blacksmith. They just aren't worth it."

"Well, I'm not so sure. Take this one." Carriac lifted an old weathered sword from a barrel marked 'lowest quality, lowest price'. The blade was pitted with rust. Carriac could tell that an effort had been made to clean the blade, but the damage was fairly substantial. The hilt was brass and badly tarnished. There were two settings for gems, but the gems themselves had been pried out long ago. Carriac was no weapons expert, but the balance felt off. This was confirmed as the elf noticed an unwanted bend to the metal. Yes, this blade would do nicely.

"I'll fix this one up for you for free. If you like my work, we can come to some arrangement. Deal?"

"What's to keep you from just leaving with the blade and not coming back? You pay for the blade, then you can do whatever you want to it."

Carriac smiled. "Oh, that won't be necessary. I can do the work right here."

Carl looked skeptical so Carriac stopped talking and began acting. He ran a pudgy hand down the flat of the blade, getting a feel for the metal. It wasn't a high quality steel, but it WOULD respond favorably to his urgings. He ran his hand down the blade a second time, attuning himself fully to the subtle vibrations in the blade.

"Look, I don't know what you're trying to do, but..."

Carriac ran his hand down the blade a third time, more slowly than before, his eyes closed in concentration. As his fingers moved along the metal, an orange powder fell to the counter. When Carriac had finished this third pass there was no more rust on the blade. The steel was bright and polished and reflected the room's ambient light with a mirror-like quality.

Carl's mouth hung open.

Carriac didn't notice. He held the sword hilt first up to his eye and looked down the blade. Placing one finger on each of the blade's flats he ran his hand slowly down the length. The metal straightened under his touch and the blade narrowed slightly, then lengthened an inch. Carriac then wrapped his fat hand completely around the hilt. The brass handle seemed to writhe in his grip, the previously flat surface come seemingly alive. When the movement stopped, Carriac placed the sword on the counter.

Carl stared for a moment in wonder before hefting the weapon with an almost reverential attitude. The sword was as good as new. No, it was much better than when new. The blade itself was absolutely straight, razor sharp, with nothing to mar its polished surface. The balance it never had had been perfectly instilled. The hilt had become a work of art, an aspen tree with ivy girded branches. The sword was exquisite, its value increased more than twenty-fold.

The whole process had taken less than five minutes.

Carriac smiled. "So, do we have a deal?"

[Traveler]

Traveler looked up in time to see the owner with a surprised look on his face. He walked over to the pair looking at the sword the owner held, and asked, "Do you have any more weapons of this quality around, I'm looking to replace and pick up a few new items. I'll be looking for throwing knives of quality, a good crossbow, as well as some bolt for it. Preferably un poisoned." Unaware he had stepped into Carriac's plan perfectly. The storeowner looked at him in bewilderment for a moment. "Well, what is it! Do you have any more weapons of quality or not?"

[Carriac/Carl]

The portly elf watched in amusement as Traveler questioned the shopkeeper.

Carl's eyes went from Traveler to the sword to Carriac then back to Carriac.

"We have a deal," he said, finding it difficult to keep his amazement out of his voice.

"Wonderful!" Carriac responded. He spent the next forty-five minutes shaping various used items into the exact specifications required by Traveler. Carl charged Traveler an extremely reasonable price for the high quality merchandise and then gave Carriac a generous cut of his grossly expanded profit.

Carriac took only one item for himself. It was a large, unwieldy claymore. Part of the blade had cracked off, leaving a three inch notch just shy of the blade tip. Runes had once been etched into the surface of the blade, but rust and scorching had made many of the characters illegible.

"That blade was enchanted at one time," Carl told him. "The story goes that the knight wielding it met up with a powerful lich. The sword's magic was strong enough to defeat the monster, but the blade itself was destroyed in the encounter. The knight disposed of it soon after, thinking it to be cursed. I haven't been able to get any blacksmith to look at it - it's yours if you want it."

Carriac tried to pay Carl for the blade, but the shopkeep refused.

"You just come back next time you're in the area. I'm sure we could work out a deal...special orders, or the like."

Carriac promised him he would stop back when he could and turned to Traveler.

"Where to next?" he asked.

[Traveler]

Traveler, realizing he could have bought the cheap stuff and had Carriac fix it later, decided it was probably not worth the trouble of bringing the point up now. It _would_ have cost him less in the long run... Anyway it did not hurt to have a new and happy contact in a town like this.

In reply to his friend he said, "Well, since we've finished our business here we can either have a look around and get acquainted with the town, or we can go back to the Inn and see if we have any companions ready to make a journey." With a perplexed look on his face he said, "It's been my experience of late that things don't usually stay in the same spot very long. What do you think? Sight seeing, or companions?"

[Carriac]

"I always like a good bit of sightseeing," Carriac said in a jovial tone, "Especially when I have the coin to do it right."

He shook his now full coin purse as an emphasis to his words.

"Still, I would feel bad about seeing the town without asking our new friends at the Dragon's Inn to accompany us. And I want to put this thing..." he motioned down to the great sword whose tip drug the ground behind him - he hardly had the strength to hold it up with two hands, let alone one - "...in my room there until I have time to work on it properly.

"So, off to the Inn, then, shall we?"

[Mara]

Rain.

Mara hated the rain as it fell lightly around her, making her pull the thin, thread bare cloak tightly over her shoulders. She fingered the small wooden collar that was placed around her neck, and wondered if she would ever be able to take it off. Her bare feet made wet sickening noises as she walked down the long and lonely road, not wanting to look back at the horror she had to leave behind.

The lightning had come from nowhere, striking the nearest tree and setting it ablaze. The horses that were pulling the slavers cart were spooked, and they shot off like a bullet, causing the handler to be thrown from his seat. Mara could still hear the earth-shattering crunch of bone, when the man fell, breaking his neck. Mara could not remember if she smiled or not, but she did remember the fear she felt in her stomach as the cart lurched one way, and then the other as the horses sped on, kicking up mud and grass as they tried to break free.

She could see the fear in their eyes and taste the mud as it flew up, hitting her in the face as she tried to reach for the reins. Her thin arms could barely reach through the wooden bars that held her, and the cart bounced at every turn, made things difficult.

She cursed in her native tongue as her hand caught one of the reins, then slipped from her fingers, falling down to the ground below. She saw the turn coming, when the moonlight broke through the dark clouds, and she knew that the horses could not make it with the heavy cart behind them. The sound of wood splintering and the very earth came crashing towards her as she screamed. Then darkness took her sight as the sound of the rain fell on her ears.

She had no idea how long she was out, but the rain had slowed and she found herself unharmed, the cart where she was seated was burnt to a crisp, as if a large ball of lightning struck it. But the ground and the grass under the cart were not even damaged. Water dripped down from the burnt cart as she reached up and touched it, and watched as the charred wood crumbled in her hands, leaving them black with soot.

"How is that possible?" Standing, she found that she didn't even have a scratch on her, though her clothes were charred and burnt as well. Her blouse, that was once long sleeved, was now burnt up to her elbows, her pants were now shorts and her boots were burnt completely of her feet. Pulling back her wet black hair from her face, she looked around for the horses, but what tracks that could be seen, showed her that once the cart broke free, the horses kept on going.

She followed the cart tracks back to her old master, reaching down and closing his eyes as he stared up at her in disbelief that something like this would happen to him. She remembered that someone said that she was cursed, but her master laughed, saying that no curse could harm him. How wrong he was. Checking him over, she found the trigger, that would have taken the wooden collar off, had been destroyed in the fall. Checking his pockets, Mara found a small bag full of coins, and a simple dagger. She tried to wear the man's boots, but found them too heavy and awkward to walk in. His clothes smelled of stall ale, among other things, but the thin cotton cloak was still useable. As she pulled the cloak from the now dead master, she could not help but wonder where she was. She only knew that she was a long ways from home.

"Home? Why can't I remember where home is?" Her fingers ran along the smooth wooden circle of wood as she tried to remember where she had came from and who her parents were, but all she remembered was waking up one night and finding herself in the slave pits all alone with no one to talk to.

"This road must lead somewhere," she thought as she walked on, the forest loomed over her and every sound around her made her jump. The rain was beginning to slow down as she walked deeper into the forest, following the road away from the burnt cart and her old master.

"I guess I shouldn't call him my old master. I only met him this morning." She smiled and brushed back her black hair from her face, as her stomach protested that it had nothing to fill the emptiness it was feeling. Mara started searching for anything to eat, and soon found a small patch of berries. Pulling them off one at a time, she filled the emptiness in her stomach the best she could, before walking on. Her fingers were now stained with the berry juice and she licked them as clean as she could, before wiping them on her cloak. Yet still the hunger within started to protest and she started feeling hunger pains again.

"I eat enough berries to bake a pie, yet I'm still hungry. Why?" As she made the long bend in the road, the forest opened up and she spotted a rather large town up ahead. She noticed that it had a high wall built around it, with guard posts and a gate where the road ended. Pulling the threadbare cloak tighter over her shoulders, she walked on down, and watched, as the gate grew bigger with each step.

Before she was able to pass through the gate, a guard stepped up, leaning on a tall staff of wood, looking bored as he said, "State your business. Why do you wish to enter Montfort?"

Mara stood there, holding her dagger in one hand, while pulling the cloak tighter around her.

"I...I've come in search of someplace to eat, and to rest." Her voice quivered as she stood there in her bare and mud splattered feet, watching the guard as he looked up. But before he could say anything, a younger guard stepped up and laughed.

"What's wrong Bart? She's just a bagger! Send her on her way and lets get back to our game."

"I am not a bagger! I have money! See," and she pulled and held out two silver coins in the palm of her hand, snatching her hand back quickly as the young guard reached out for them, before placing them back in her purse.

"Yea, and I'll bet they didn't belong to you until you took someone's purse." He started to reach out for her when the older man stopped him.

"Leave her alone Stan! She's not doing anyone any harm. Miss? If you just follow this road to the right, you'll find a nice place to rest and get a good bite to eat at a fair price. It's called the Dragons Inn. You can't miss it. But if you do, just ask any guard. Tell them that Bart sent you, and you won't be bothered. They'll show you the way."

Mara smiled, as she brushed her damp hair from her face, before turning back to the Stan and gave him a hard look. "Thank you," she whispered before running away. She could hear Stan laughing as she headed through the gate.

"You should have made her pay a toll, for that much information. She was a sweet little thing," and he started to walk away, until his boots suddenly caught fire.

"What the..." Stan said as the boots flamed up, causing him to dance around as he tried to put them out. All of the other guards were laughing to hard to help him, and Bart just stood there and smiled.

Mara walked on, not knowing that she had caused Stan's boots to catch fire. Soon she saw the large red sign and looked around. A few horses were tied out front and she could see the smoke rising up from the chimney. The smell of fresh baked bread and roasted meat lingered in the air as she came closer; her stomach protested that the berries were not enough to hold its discontent. She could hear laughter coming from inside the small building, and the sounds of people walking around. Her hand went to the small bag of coins, that hung from her belt loop and she pulled out two silver coins and palmed them, before reaching for the door. The scent of ale, sweat and bread lingered out in front of her as she stuck her head through the door frame, and looked inside.

The room was very busy, and a long bar sat to one side, with a rather large man serving drinks. Stomping the loose mud from her bare feet, she glanced around, taking notice that a few patrons turned towards the door, before going back to their meals and drinks, before finding an empty table near a dead fireplace. Stepping in quickly, she weaved her way around the tables and chairs, missing a few patrons as they rose up for more drinks and finding the table still empty. Slipping slowly into the chair, she took a quick look around, before dropping her head to the table. She didn't hear Sera walking up until she heard her voice.

"Hello! Welcome to the Dragon's Inn. Would you care for something to drink, or eat?"

Startled by Sera's voice, Mara jumped. The dead fireplace suddenly came to life, shooting a wall of flames straight up the chimney. As fast as the flames came, they went, leaving a number of white ash logs. Mara blinked and watched as the ash logs slowly crumbled in on each other until all that was left was a small pile of ash sitting below the grate.

"Does it always do that?"

Sera shook her head and smiled. "No, not all the time, but this is the Dragon's Inn. I've seen stranger things happen." Mara blinked once again, unsure is she could believe Sera or not. But at the moment her stomach growled, protesting that it knew food was near by.

"Would this be enough to buy something to eat here? I have had nothing to eat but a few berries that I found along the path." Pulling the threadbare cloak tighter around her neck to hide the wooden collar, showing the dagger that she was still holding in her hand, she placed the coins on the table and slid them forward.

"I think we can find something in the kitchen for you. We have a nice bowl of stew, a few platters of fine meats, along with an assortment of breads and cheeses. What would you like?"

"All of it sounds so good..."

Worried that the two coins were not enough, she pulled out one more and placed it with the rest.

"Will this be enough, for everything you just mentioned? The bowl of stew, the platter of meat with the breads and cheese? If so..." and she started counting on her fingers, "then I'll take them, and a glass of milk, if that's ok." Brushing the damp hair from her face, she looked back down at the three coins and whispered, "Please...It's all I have in the world, and I'm so very hungry..."

She felt so ashamed, begging like she was doing, but she had no other choice. She was frightened, lost and had no memory except from the night before.

Memories that were hidden by a dark secret...

Sera smiled, pushing two of the coins back and smiling. "I'll see what I can do." Bending down, Sera whispered, "And you need not fear anything in here. You can put the dagger away if you like. No one will bother you, but if you are in trouble," and Sera watched as Mara dropped her hand and the cloak fell open, "then all you need to do is ask for help."

Smiling, she winked and headed towards the kitchen, whispering and nodding her head as she spoke to Hugh. "It looks like we have another stray. She's frightened and she's wearing a slavers collar. Her clothes are burnt, but her skin is still smooth. I think we have a Firestarter in our mitts. But I don't think she knows that. She asked why the fireplace blew up like it did."

Hugh stopped cleaning the glass that he had in his hand, before glancing over at Mara. "Then what did you tell her?" Sera smiled and winked. "I told her I've seen stranger things happen in here."

"Oh! Scare her more so she can burn the place down around our ears huh?" Hugh laughed as Sera pushed him back.

"Behave now! Or I'll tell the misses you've been flirting with me again."

Hugh blushed and stutters as he watched Sera disappearing into the kitchen. "It's a toss up. Having my wife mad at me, or having a Firestarter in the Inn. I just hope the wards can control something like that..."

Meanwhile Mara was busy playing with the two coins that Sera had left behind. She didn't know if she should place them back in her purse, or leave them.

She decided to leave them...

[Traveler]

"It would probably do me good to drop a little of this off, too. Besides, I'm developing a thirst. Some lemonade... Ale would be good right now. Sounds fair, to the Inn for our friends and then some sight seeing."

He motioned for the other man to lead the way, and then bid the shop owner good day. They walked out the door and headed for the Inn.

The wind was blowing and there was the strong smell of... something familiar.

Travelers mind was in a whirlwind when they entered the door. He quickly scanned the room and commented, "I don't see anyone yet. I wonder if maybe they have just not made it back down. When we relieve ourselves of this extra weight we can inquire about our friends. I meet you back here in twenty minutes."

And he headed to his room leaving the Carriac in the main room.

[Carriac]

Carriac ordered a bottle of persimmon wine from the bar before dragging both himself and the heavy sword up to his own room. Entering the room, he dropped the sword unceremoniously on the floor and plopped his bulk onto the bed. It creaked dangerously under the strain of his weight.

"One day," he said, huffing from the strain of carrying the sword so far, "I'm going to get into better shape."

There was a knock at the door. Carriac groaned a bit, then heaved himself to his feet and answered it. It was his persimmon wine. He thanked the barmaid and closed the door. Without ceremony, he downed a quarter of the bottle.

"Ah, now that's better," he said as the subtle liquor warmed his insides a bit.

He took a few more swallows then set the bottle aside, pulled up a chair and hefted the greatsword.

Carriac wasn't really interested in the story behind the sword. Nor was he interested in restoring the blade for future sale. He had bought the relic for one reason only.

The elf ran his hand up and down the blade as he had in the shop. The metal responded slowly to his touch, pitted, rusty steel oozing outward to reveal the core of the once mighty magical weapon.

A shaft of refined metal ran through the center of the blade, from the tip all the way to the tang. It was about two inches wide at the widest point of the blade and had been untouched by the decay that the rest of the metal had sustained.

Carriac wasn't at all surprised. It was pure adamantium.

This most precious of metals had called out to him as he had touched the blade, begging to be released from the prison that bound it. Carriac intended to give it a new home.

The work was slow as he removed the adamantium shaft from the blade, but he finally held it in his hands. It was amazingly light, given its hardness, and responded like butter to his touch.

Carriac had never been so pleased.

"Oh, the things I shall do with you!" he said as the shaft collapsed into a solid brick three inches wide, six inches long and two inches thick. He further subdivided the brick into four smaller pieces. Three of these he secreted in various hidden pockets in his clothing. He sealed the openings to these pockets by drawing his finger across the fabric, the cloth weaving itself into a solid piece. In this way he was certain that the pieces would not fall out. The fourth piece he placed in his trouser pocket, the better to fiddle with as he explored the city.

Carriac left the 'melted' remains of the greatsword on the floor, took up the half empty bottle of persimmon wine and made his way back to the common room.

Traveler hadn't come back yet, and he didn't see Rowan or Dref anywhere, so Carriac decided to make some new friends. He spotted a dirty, black-haired human girl sitting at a table by herself.

Emboldened by the wine, though not truly drunk, Carriac sauntered over and sat in the seat next to her.

"Hello there," he said with a friendly smile.

He sat the wine bottle on the table, snatched a clean glass from the tray of a passing barmaid and poured the girl a drink.

"My name is Carriac. You look like you could use this more than me.

"It's a bit sweet," he continued, as the girl eyed him warily, "but it's guaranteed to give you the best impression of me!"

He winked at her and pushed the glass of slightly orange liquid toward her.

[Traveler]

He headed up the stairs towards his room. He past several people in the hall and realized how things were beginning to be normal. Things were beginning to have that feeling of now. The bouts of Deja vu had lessened and things were beginning to become commonplace in his mind. He entered his room and left many of the new blades, his crossbow and bolts on the table beside his bed. He kept his sword in it's scabbard on his back. It was a magnificent blade. The scabbard was wrapped in black leather and had Ivory runes running down its length.

He pulled the sword from it place and it seemed to hum in his hands. He swung it as if for the first time, and it responded as if alive. The blade was perfectly balanced and seemed to come back to ready of its own accord. It blade had been attuned to Traveler's aura. He swung a few more times and fell into a well-practiced routine of killing moves. Traveler's own body moved as if of its own accord, he was detached not realizing what was going on. Anyone looking on would have seen what seemed like a blur. Only a few moments had occurred, but traveler was not aware of it. He replaced the sword in his scabbard and stretched some tense muscles in his back.

He walked over to the washbasin near the windows and poured some of the water into the bowl. He splashed some on his face and dried off with a towel. Felling a little refreshed and more than enough hungry he decided to go on down and order some food and drink.

At an empty table downstairs he took a seat and motioned for the waitress to come over. He ordered some stew and some ale and paid her with a silver coin from his pocket. He waited for a few minutes until his food arrived and drained the bowl before the lady had time to turn around good. He drank his ale casually and waited for Carriac to return. He glanced around the room looking for their companions, but saw no one he recognized.

[Mara]

Mara watched as two men walked into the inn, one carry, or dragging a rather heavy blade. She wondered why anyone would drag a blade that heavy around, seeing how it would be to heard to wield.

"Maybe it belongs to another and he's just holding for his friend." Satisfied with that answer, Mara leaned back against her chair and started to follow the thin paths that the grain of the wood provided for her. Before long, using her fingernail, she had burnt a figure of a phoenix into the wood. The drawing was in such fine detail that it looked as if it could jump up and fly out the door.

She didn't notice anyone coming over to her table, until Carriac came over, and sat next to her.

"He...hello," she whispered and pulled her cloak up tight around her, hiding the wooden collar.

She watched as he snatched a glass from a passing waitress, before poring her a drink. The wine looked like orange juice, and she glanced back over and placed a hint of a smile on her face.

"I'm...Mara...Thank you..." and she started to reach for the glass and stopped. "Are you here...to try an bed me?"

Mara blushed as her fingers circled around the glass as her eyes shot around the room, looking for Sera. Not finding her, she held on to the glass and waited.

"I'm not...that kind..." and she glanced back up at Carriac, then quickly looked back down at the glass. "I mean....I've never been..." and she started to chew on her lip.

Suddenly the wine in the glass started to boil over the top of the glass, and before anyone could move the glass shattered in her hand, sending pieces flying everywhere.

"Wha..."

Mara was just as much lost for words than anyone there as she sat there watching the wine dripping off her hand, not even leaving one scratch.

"I'm sorry...I...I don't know why it happened," and she pulled the cloak over her head and dropped her head down to the table, as she sobbed and cried.

"I'm cursed..."

[Traveler]

Traveler had slumped forward onto the table after finishing his stew and ale. A loud commotion across the room caused him to stir. He rubbed his eyes to clear the blurr and saw Carriac jump as shards of glass went flying.

Not thinking about the wards in the Inn Traveler supposed someone had thrown the glass. He jumped from the table he currently occupied and ran towards Carriac, Pulling his sword from the scabberd as he ran.

When he arrived at the table he was confronted by a crying woman and a very surprised Carriac. Looking down at the table he noticed the drawing burned into the tabletop and heard the girl exclaim she was cursed. Looking from the girl to Carriac to the table he surmised that once again things were going to get strange.

[Carriac]

Carriac was startled by the explosion of the wine glass, but he kept his wits about him. He noticed, finally, the design burned into the table and was able to put two and two together. It was obvious to him that this woman was just coming into a *talent*. He remembered when his own talent had begun manifesting itself so many years before - it had been a very trying time and Carriac had needed someone strong to lean on.

He reached out and placed a comforting hand on the young woman's arm.

"There now, Mara," he said is a soothing, fatherly tone, "Everything is going to be all right."

Carriac pulled his chair around to her side of the table and sat down, placing an arm protectively around her shoulders.

"I see no evidence of any curse here," he continued, "Just an unexplored talent. You have been blessed by the gods!"

It was then that he noticed the hard bulge at the girl's neck. A collar? Was this girl a slave? Anger welled up in the elf at the thought. No wonder she had asked if he intended to bed her!

Thinking to calm her and allay her fears, and noticing the approach of Traveler, he attempted a bit of humor.

"As far as 'bedding you' is concerned, I'd probably have a stroke if I were to even _think_ such a thing. I have great-grand-nieces who are older than you! No, I'll stick to being the fatherly type. It's the strong handsome ones with the big swords you have to watch out for...."

And he gave Traveler a sly wink.

[Mara]

[missing section]

"Can you help me..." she asked with a whispered voice. "I've no where else to go..." and she placed her hand on Carriac's arm. " Are you going to take me back? I'm sure someone is looking for me by now..."

Dropping her head, Mara placed one hand in her lap and the other on the table. "I will let you bed me, if you'll take me with you. I won't eat much, and I'll be quiet..."

She hated to speak those words, and a bitter taste of bile rose up to her throat, burning as she tried to swallow it back down.

" I'll be good...." as she pulled on the burnt sleeve of her pants.

[ Hedrick]

There comes a time when everyone makes at least one mistake, sometimes two. Mara's mistake was leaving the old slaver out along the path. She should have drug him to the bushes and slowly let him rot. But at the time, she was only looking to escape with her life.

A life someone else wanted.

It took only a day to find the body of the old slaver, or what was left of him after some of the creatures of the forest was through with him. Hedrick had stumbled across him, on his way delivering his own slaves to their new home. Finding the broken trigger by the side of the body, he shook his head and started looking through the dead mans pocket for any loose coins or anything of value. There he found a small scrap of paper, over looked by Lacy that held an address and a name.

"I'll bet that this one will like to know that his slave will not make it to his or her new home." Rubbing his fat little hands together, while thinking about the reward that will follow, he stepped back up to his wagon and snapped the rein, causing the wagon to jerk forward. A number of curses came from behind the covered wagon and he smiled while reaching into his pocket, pulling a trigger of his own. A loud 'ZAP' was heard and the wagon light up under the tarp, like a bolt of lightning had just struck the wagon. Soon all that Hedrick heard was moaning while the wagon lurched ahead.

"Yes, a fine reward for the information I am holding, maybe enough to buy a lovely little slave of my own, with soft skin and big..." and he started to laugh, finishing the sentence with, " big brown eyes..."

The trip was slow, and the climb steep as they made their way up a narrow path that was cut out along the side of a large mountain. He could see the large castle looming above him, but the path was sharp and narrow, at times so that the wagon wheel on the left had little to grip on. Rock broke away from the edge at times, falling down the steep cliffs, and Hedrick counted the seconds it took for it to make a sound. At times no sound came, except for the creaking of the wagon wheels and the clip clop of the horse's hoofs.

Even the slaves were holding their breaths as the wagon made its way upward. He had passed the burnt wagon on his way to the mountain, and had more information to report. What caught his eyes was the fact that the wooden side of the wagon that overturned was burnt in a perfect circle. The rest of the wagon was intact. He had even brought a piece of the wood to show, in case the man or woman he was about to meet didn't believe him, along with the broken trigger.

The wagon finally made its way up to the castles gate and a large man all dressed in battle gear stepped up and stared at Hedrick for the longest time, before speaking.

" The master was expecting you here last night! And why did you bring more than the one he has asked for? I count three back there. The note that was presented to you was for only one. The master will not like this..." and the man turned to go.

" Wait! Please, I am not the slaver your master is looking for. The path below has found him with his neck broken. The wagon he was pulling was found a few leagues away, the horses gone. There was a rather large burnt hole in the side of the wagon, in a perfect circle, and the rest of the wagon was intact. Only the wood around the circle was burnt."

Reaching into his robe, Hedrick pulled out the chunk of burnt wood and handed it down to the guard. "See! I'm telling you the truth. The wagon side of the wagon was burnt in a most perfect circle, yet the rest of the wagon and ground around it was spared."

" You've said that already," the guard said as he took the wood and crumbled the burnt end in his hands, before bringing it to his nose. "Wait here! And stay on the wagon. I would hate to see the beasts that guard the grounds have you for lunch." With that said the guard turned and walked inside, pulling open two large doors before stepping in, closing them behind him.

Hedrick swallowed hard and glanced around the gate, catching a high-pitched scream, like an eagle or a large hawk. A large shadow passed over him and the wagon, blocking out the evenings light for a second, before fading away just as quickly as it came. He glanced up and shielded his eyes, trying to catch what caused the shadow to form. But _it_, what ever _it_ was, darted behind one of the castle towers before Hedrick had the chance to see what it was.

Soon the guard came back out, holding the stick in one hand, motioning him to step down. "The master wishes to speak with you. But what ever you do, do not look into his eyes. No matter what!"

Hedrick nodded his head and slowly climbed down, tying off the reins so the horse would spook and run. He started to follow the man inside, but stopped when he heard a crunching sound behind him. He heard the horse scream as he spun, but the guard caught his shoulder and quickly turned him back.

" There is no need to worry. Your horse, wagon and slaves are being cared for. The horse just became spooked by its new handler, that's all."

The new handler was none other than the passing shadow that Hedrick first saw. A rather large Red Dragon had grabbed the wagon and horse, carrying it up and away.

It was after all, just sitting there unguarded.

Hedrick nodded once again, as the large doors were pulled open and he stepped in, with help from the guard, pressing his hand in the middle of Hedrick's back.

" There is no need to fear The Master. He only wants what belongs to him, and if you have any information, he will be more than willing to reward you with what ever your heart desires. He is a fair Master and wishes only to find what is his. Now follow me, and I will take you to the study. There will be food and drink there, to calm your nerves. And I will send in one of the girls to pleasure you, if you like."

Hedrick felt a lump growing in his throat and he smiled, swallowing the lump back down. "Yes, I would like that. Please be sure to thank your master for being such a fine host."

The Guard smiled for the first time, before walking down a long hallway, throwing open a rich paneled door, before stepping in. The room was dark, with a few mage lights glowing high up from the ceiling, casting the room in soft of a yellowish glow.

" The master likes the rooms dim. Too much light harms his eyes. You understand?"

Hedrick looked around the room before nodding. " Yes, yes I understand. I don't mind the dim lights, so long as I don't have to stumble around in the dark."

The guard pointed to a large couch that sat in the center of the room. It was red and gold; the wood that it was carved from made it look more like a bathtub that someone had cut in half. The arms came out and stopped, forming two large lions heads, their mouths open in a silent roar.

"Well made, for a king perhaps."

The guard laughed before turning and closing the door behind him, making Hedrick a bit uncomfortable. But he found a pitcher of wine and gem encrusted wine glass, and he went about poring himself a drink. Sitting down on the wide couch, he placed his feet up and crossed them, closing his eyes while he sipped on the wine.

" A man could get use to this," he whispered and jumped when he heard something. His eyes snapped open and standing there before him was a dark skinned beauty, with nothing on but a smile.

" I was told to come and see to your pleasures, until my Master comes to speak to you."

Hedrick smiled and licked his wine stained lips, before pulling the beautiful girl down, kissing her full on the lips as his callused hands roamed over her body. She responded to his kiss like she was told and they spent the time they had alone pleasuring each other, until the door slid open. The girl stood quickly, holding her hands down in front of her, her eyes looking straight down.

" That will be all. Thank you for caring for our guest while I was busy. You will be rewarded later, after I am finished with our guest."

The girl smiled, showing her large fanged teeth for the first time, before fading into the darkness. Hedrick slowly stood, pulling his robe back around his fat body, before turning.

"I wish to thank you..."

"There is no need for that. The girls enjoy pleasuring my guests while I am away. It is..." and the large man hesitated, before going on. " It is their job. That is why I have them, so my time is spent on other matters. Now tell me, you have some information on one of my beauties? The slaver I was expecting never showed, but you have, without my package. You must have a fair reason why. Have you not..."

Hedrick reached for the wine glass, taking a deep drink, before answering the man in the shadows. "Ye..yes, I have a reason for coming. I found your lost slaver, down along the path, his neck broken. The cart he was pulling was found a few leagues away, turned on its side, with a large burnt hole on one side. But I've told the guard outside all this..."

" Yes, but sometimes I like to hear things first hand. You know good help is hard to find. Now tell me, was my package unharmed? Did you see her?"

Hedrick shook his head and reached into his pocket. "No, I only saw the slaver. There was no one around the cart, and no footprints leading away. But there was a rain shower the night before. It might have washed the tracks away. I did bring in a piece of the wagon, and I showed it to the guard. I never received it back though."

The man in the shadows reached behind him, pulling the burnt stick out to the light. "Yes, the guard showed me. I ran a few tests on it, to see if you were telling the truth, or lying about the whole thing. That happens a lot around here at times. People showing up with tales of their own imagination, expecting a healthy reward. But you're not like that, are you?"

Hedrick shook his head no, while trying to steady his hand that was holding the glass of wine. "No! No, I'm not like that. I am an honest slaver. You can ask anyone at the pits about that. They will tell you."

"Yes, I know. I had you checked out, while the girl was pleasuring you. The wood and your story hold truth. Something that is very rare around here. Now you said that the only body was the slavers, and you saw no tracks leading away from the broken, burnt cart. That it rained that night. Yes?"

"Yes, I mean right. Everything you just said is true. I found your address in the slavers pocket, but his purse and dagger was missing, and someone had pulled the boots from his feet. One was sitting up, the other by its side."

"Well then, I thank you for your kindness in this matter. If you turn and look behind you, you will see your reward." Then the large man took a step back, before he faded into the shadows. There sitting on the table behind him sat the young lady, this time dressed and with an empty wine glass in her hand.

"You are my reward for the information?"

The young dark skinned girl smiled as she slowly rose up, holding the glass out in front of her. "No, you are my reward, for keeping The Master happy..."

The screams could be heard echoing down the hallway as the large man stopped to speak to the guard. "Be sure to have her clean up her mess, once she is finished. And there is no need to feed the Dragon today. He has had his fill of horse and a few tasty slaves. But be sure to feed the Phoenix the wagon. Just set it afire, after the Dragon is finished. I enjoy killing two birds with one stone. Oh, I will need to find a good tracker. One that can see what others can't. Price is no object."

"Yes Master! I will see to it right away. And once he finds the pray?"

"Have him, or her bring it back to me, unharmed. There is still much she needs to learn, before I no longer need to hire out assassins again. She might even take over your job, if your not careful. Now please leave me. I have much work to do. And give the tracker this," and the man handed the guard a new trigger.

"By now, she's found some way to get the collar off, but knowing her, she will wish to keep it, if not for a short time. This will help find her. Its like a homing beacon, that will show the tracker the way she's gone."

The guard bowed, turned and stepping away, while gripping the trigger in his fist. Finding the right tracker will be easy. Having him kill the girl, without letting the Master knowing would be the tricky part.

"No one will take my job from me. Not even some snotty looking half elf!"

If he only knew that, the half elf was free from the collar and had found two new friends to help her on her way. That and she was about to learn about her new found powers, by accident... once she stepped out from the Inn.

There were already a few others that had been watching her, and they too knew of a man that would be interested in having her back.

He was called The Master, and he lived in a castle up near the top of a large mountain. They would get a great reward for bringing her back, and killing her new friends too.

[Carriac]

"Child, child, no one will ever take you back. Not _ever_. Not as long as I am around."

This last was said with a slight edge to Carriac's voice.

"Of course I will take you with me," he continued, his calm fatherly manner back. "But you will come with me of _your_ own will. There will no more talk of this 'bedding'. Hold still."

Carriac reached a hand slowly toward Mara and grasped the collar that was still partially hidden by her cloak. It only took a soft nudge. The wood flowed around her neck.... He pulled back his hand and with it the now shapeless chuck of wood that was the slave collar.

The elf tossed the misshapen hunk into the fireplace.

"You are a free woman and I offer you my friendship, no strings attached."

[Mara]

Mara's eyes grew wide as she listened to Carriac words, feeling so much weigh taking off her shoulders at last.

"You'll do that...For me?" She smiled, reaching over and kissed Carriac on the cheek, before blushing. "I'll go with you, and I wont be any bother...to either one of you."

Mara suddenly froze again, when Carriac reached over and grabbed the wooden ring around her neck. She could feel it shrinking, before is flowed from her neck and left in his hands. She watched as he glanced at the ring, before throwing it into the fireplace.

Everyone was to busy chatting to see Hugh walking over to the fireplace, throwing on a new set of logs and mumbling to himself about faulty wood and what he would say to the woodcutter that sold him such cheap wood.

"Next time I see that woodcutter," Hugh mumbled as he sat the new logs a blazing, watching the fire grow and checking the flume, before walking away.

Mara watched as the circle of wood spun in front of her eyes, before landing in the now roaring fireplace. Without even thinking, she jumped up and stuck her right hand directly into the fire, pulling the ring out and holding it in her hand. Her skin was smoking, yet it was still soft and cool to the touch as she stepped back to the table.

"Your a shaper, are you not," as she looked down in her hand, before looking back up. " I felt the wood shifting when you pulled it from my neck."

Running her finger along the wood, she looked up and held it out. "Can you change the wood into something different? I want to keep it..." and her eyes softened. "To remind me of who I was, before I meet the two of you."

Smiling once again, she placed the circle of wood into Carriac's hand, running her fingers across his, before dropping it back to the tables edge.

"Can you change it into a dagger? I think it would be more useful that way to me, than a collar of wood. A strong dagger, something sharp and easy on the eyes..."

She spotted Sera coming back with her tray of food and drink and she smiled up. "Thank you Sera, for everything..."

Sera smiled and glanced down, before looking up at Traveler. " You boy's want anything, because I know she's not going to share her food with you. You best watch your hands, for if you try to reach for something, you might come back with a stub."

Winking, Sera placed the tray down and handed Mara her glass. "Watch these two. They'll try to sneak off your tray," and she laughed and kicked out a chair for Traveler.

"And you need to sit down. Your not going to grow any taller standing there."

Mara giggled and started tearing into the tray of food. She was hungry, and her stomach was protesting the lack of food. She keep an eye on Carriac as he stared at the wooden ring.

"It won't bite, you know..." as she stuffed a slice of meat in her mouth. "You will do this for me, won't you? Please..."

She knew she had him after "please'.

[Carriac]

Carriac was a little taken back by Mara's desire to keep the collar, but her explanation _WAS_ a reasonable one. He decided that if fashioning the symbol of her slavery into a weapon would help her recover from the experience he would gladly help.

And a weight in the pocket of his trousers gave him an idea of how he could make the weapon truly worthwhile.

He focused his talent on the wood and it seemed to come alive in his hands. It was heartwood, from an ancient ash tree, and it responded willingly to his desires.

He wanted the blade to speak of freedom and of new beginnings. The wood mimicked his thoughts, the blade forming as if by magic. The hilt formed first - the trunk of a mighty tree, the gnarled roots of which formed the dagger's pommel. Twin branches sprouted from either side, replete with leaves, and formed the quillons of the guard. A raised sunburst blossomed from the vee of the tree's branches giving the impression of a sunrise seen from within a forest. A single ray of sunlight rose upward from the burst - a well-disguised blood groove down the center of the one and a half inch wide blade. Doves flew in relief on either side of the ray.

The dagger was breathtaking, if Carriac did think so himself.

Now to add the finishing touch.

Carriac reached into his pocket and brought forth a thin thread of adamantium. This he attached to the edge of the wooden blade, fusing the two with an almost microscopic series of saw tooth type ridges. The two blended seamlessly. The edge was now razor sharp and because it was made of adamantium, it would never need honing.

When he had finished, he handed the blade to Traveler.

"Well, what do you think?"

[Traveler]

Traveler watched in amazement as the wood collar melted from the girls neck. Carriac's abilities were amazing.

"Do you always take to strays so easy? This girl looks like she could be trouble." ~If she doesn't kill us, she'll probably get us killed.~

Traveler grinned at Sera and sat down at the table. He was real uneasy. Something wasn't right. Untrained firestarters didn't usually make it to her age. She looked human, but there was something about her that seemed elvish. Plus, there was something about her he couldn't put his finger on. Something.

"So, _Mara_, Seems we both have something in common. I don't remember anything about my past either. Seems the story has it round here I just appeared in the middle of the INN." She just ate, apparently ignoring his comment.

Traveler almost felt a little insecure, being the only one at the table that couldn't _DO_ something. He sat there for a moment watching the girl eat. He had never seen someone tear through a plate of food like she did. Sera came around to the table again and asked if everything was ok.

"Bring another ale for Carriac and myself. Bring her another of whatever she's drinking, too."

Looking at the girl he commented, "We're going to have to find you some more clothes I guess. Can't have you going around looking like that. I guess we can do that when we go on our sightseeing tour of the town." Indicating he was ready to go and have a look around the town.

[Mara]

Mara overheard the remark about the stray, but ignored Traveler, eating and filling her stomach instead. She had watched what Carriac had done to her wooden ring, transforming it into a blade of such beauty and wealth.

But she would never let it leave her side, unless she was throwing it at some ones heart, or throat.

She saw Sera walking up with a smile once again, asking if anyone wanted anything else to drink or eat.

"More milk please," Mara said with a mouth full of bread, and pointed toward Traveler. "And since he thinks me a stray, let him buy the next round. Make it a pitcher of milk Sera, after _that_ remark. "

Looking down at her clothes, she shook her head and swallowed. "I don't think you'll be able to find clothes like this. I remember that they were made just for me, though I can't remember why. I do know that they were made from a special plant, and was said to with stand great heat. But I guess it wasn't built to withstand what I went through."

Holding her arm out, she looked over at Carriac and smiled once again. "Can I ask another favor of you? Do you think you can fix my clothes? And see if you can make them softer? They itch at times..."

Reaching over, she kissed Carriac on the cheek once again and giggled.

"This way we can save the old skin flint some money," she whispered in his ear as she pointed towards Traveler. "He's an old grump in the morning, isn't he? Remind me when we bed down, to sleep on your side of the fire."

Glancing over at Traveler, she gave stuck her tongue out at him and went back to finish her meal.

"Once I get my new clothes, and finish eating, we'll go on this little sight seeing tour. Maybe I can find a carrier for my new dagger," and she pulled the one she had taken off the dead slaver and handed it over to Carriac.

" I no longer need this one, so can I have mine back now? Please.... "

[Carriac]

"Certainly, my dear," he said, handing her the wooden implement.

It didn't show in his face, but Carriac was more than a little disturbed by the sudden change that had come over Mara. One moment she was an emotional wreck, hardly able to look him in the eye - the next she was bantering about as if she had known Traveler and him forever. The change had come the moment the collar was removed, but Carriac doubted very much that the simple removal of a symbol would cause someone who had been so deeply scarred by her slavery to become emotionally free in an instant. Such wounds took many months, if not years, to heal properly, and even then the scars were often permanent. Carriac would know. He had dealt with his own demons in the past.

Watching as Mara finished her meal, he settled on two possibilities. The first was that Mara was mentally unstable. Slavery, the discovery of a previously hidden and undeveloped talent, the trauma of her escape - those things might have mentally unhinged the girl. Carriac could deal with this. He had personal experience in surmounting such things. It would be difficult and it would take time, but then, he was an elf and he had a lot of time to give.

The second possibility disturbed him more deeply. Mara could be an accomplished actress. Carriac was unable to fathom why someone would want to give such a performance before complete strangers and this made him uneasy. He had been away from the places of his own past for so long that he couldn't think of anyone who would be after him, though the shape of her ears indicated that she had at least _some_ Elven blood. Perhaps Traveler.... The truth was, he didn't know Traveler all that well - spirits, Traveler didn't know Traveler all that well. It was possible that the entire show could be over something the warrior couldn't even remember. Then there was the chance that both he and Traveler were simply in the right place at the wrong time.

Carriac shook his head slightly to clear it of his negative thoughts. All of this was just conjecture, he told himself. Just wait it out and time would tell the truth of things.

He would just keep an eye open along the way.

"I'm sorry about the clothing, though," he continued in a professional tone, as if he had spent the last several minutes studying it, "I'm afraid that there is simply too little material left to work with, unless you want your outfit to be _so_ form fitting that we'll have to beat the young lads away with a stick.

"Let's go see the town and you can pick something out that you like. I would be happy make any alterations, of course."

[Mara]

Mara's smile grew as Carriac handed her the new dagger, her fingers worked themselves gently over the blade as she held it up to her eyes.

"Beautiful workmanship. Light, yet comfortable and well balanced too. You've done this sort of work before, haven't you?"

Mara slowly turned the dagger over and over in her hand, likes she had done it a thousand times before, then just as quickly the dagger was gone.

"Shall we head out? I for one would like to find a fresh change of clothes and a nice hot bath or some type of running water in which to bathe in. So long as its clean..."

Standing, she reached down and finished her milk, wiping the white mustache from her upper lip with the back of her hand, before placing the glass back down.

"I'll let the two of you choice what I wear. Something comfortable on the eyes, but not to flashy mind you. Just a simple pair of jeans, shirt and boots will do nicely. I'm ready if you are?"

Reaching down, she picked the thread bare cloak and threw it back over her shoulders and a sudden change took place. Her demeanor seems to change and she started acting like a slave once more.

"I...I promise not to cause you to much trouble. I just want to go..." and she pulled the cloak tighter around her as she eyes Traveler and Carriac.

"Please? We must leave now. There is danger about...."

Outside the inn, three people were seen milling around one of the side alleys, all standing around with their blades by their sides, watching the inn and whispering. They all were wearing armor, one was made of a thick leather and would squeak as he moved.

"Damn it Rogar. Hold still or you'll give us away. You heard that this girl is special. I'll bet she already knows were here."

Rogar pulled his cloak tighter around him as he lifted his blade up and pointed it at the heavy built man that was talking.

"I'm doing the best I can. And you didn't tell us that she's met up with some friends. You said that she was just a frightened slave. Well she didn't look to frightened to me when she was playing with that pig sticker of hers. "

"Shut up! The both of you. We'll just watch them when they come out and wait for the right moment before we kill them. But the girl can't be harmed. She must be captured only. Do you have that blanket I told you to get?"

Rogar nodded and pulled out a thick, dark blanket out and a long length of rope. "Yea, but I don't know what good it will do us."

"It will help. Once we get the chance, I want you to throw the blanket over the girl, throw her over your shoulder, and run off with her. We'll take care of her friends. I heard tell that one of them has no memory."

"So...?"

" So stupid, maybe he's forgotten how to use that blade by his side. If he has no memory, then he will have no chance against us. Right?"

A few of the men mumbled and cursed, until the large man cleared his throat. "All right. That's enough, so just start thinking about the gold we'll receive once we get the girl back to whom ever she belongs too. Hell, you saw her. What harm can she do?"

They were about to find out...

(to be continued...)